For anyone who doesn't yet read Manx... here's the English edition.
Shoh coontey jeh lioar Black Wings of Cthulhu, reaghit ec ST Joshi. She "21 skeealyn dy scoagh Lovecraftagh" t'ayn, as verrym dhyt coontey giare jeh dagh fer. Bee milleyderyn ry-akin erreish da kied raa jeh dagh coontey giare, myr shen, bee er dty hwoaie my ta shen boirey ort. Ren mee eab dy haghney mynphoyntyn son y chooid smoo, agh bee craueyn ny skeealyn ry-akin.
Ta giare-choontey gyn milleyder ry-akin heese.
Pickman's Other Model
Ta ben hampleyragh Phickman (dy row) goaill ayrn ayns pornografee quaagh; t'ad feddyn bagh dy vel skeeal bea quaagh eck; t'ee geddyn baase. Va'n skeeal shoh gollrish skeeal Lovecraft; va dagh ooilley olt ry-akin, bunnys. Agh aght ennagh cha daink lhee eh. Va ny reayrtyssyn mie dy liooar, as v'ad cochianglt, agh dennee eh dooys dy nee straih dy reayrtyssyn t'ayn gyn y skeeal smoo s'quaaghey nyn gooyl. Cha ren Lovecraft rieau cur jerrey er skeeal gyn fys ort er ny haghyr dy firrinagh, er cre va scansh y skeeal. Agh 'sy skeeal shoh cha row fys aym er cre'n fa varr peiagh y ven, as quoi varr ee. Hooar mee lieh-ansoor 'sy jerrey agh cha row eh feeu, dennee mee "as shen y clane skeeal?". Moal.
Ta'n ard-charracteyr surranse ashlishyn beayn jeh faasagh, as rish shirrey eh t'eh feddyn magh firrinys atçhimagh. By vie lhiam aght screeuee y skeeal, as er lhiam dy ren eh obbyr vie jeh'n troap "ashlishyn quaaghey". Cha row eh lane Lovecraftagh, agh dy jarroo v'eh ayns orragey mynchlagh. Shen er coontey'n jerrey, foddee? Cha row mee jerkal y jerrey (cummey y jerrey, chamoo dy jig y jerrey cha leah), as cha nel shen rere aght Lovecraft, boallagh da cur cowraghyn baghtal jeh'n jerrey ry-heet. Ny yei shen ghow mee soylley kiune jeh. V'eh beggan shang, foddee? Agh shen cosoylit rish prose çhiu Lovecraft. Chammah's shen, er y fa dy row mee jerkal jerrey Lovecraftagh cowrit rolaue er coontey'n caslys eddyr oc, cha hoig mee dy row mee faggys da'n jerrey, er lhiam dy nee mean y skeeal t'ayn. Myr shen, ren shen cassey'n aght lhaih mee eh. Fondagh.
She skeeal jeih duillagyn t'ayn, as ta shey jeu gyn bun ny bree. She accanyn t'ayn, accanyn unsheenagh drogh-chaanytagh gyn sheiltynys erbee; s'goan ta fys ny anaase erbee ry-gheddyn assdaue, as share dhyt goll shagh'oc gyn jummal traa, cha nee eh bentyn rish y skeeal. Ayns ny kiare duillagyn s'jerree yiow oo skeealeen scoaghagh. Cha nel bun fondagh dou gra nagh nee skeeal Lovecraftagh t'ayn - t'eh bentyn rish tasht-fockle Lovecraft as ny cooishyn cheddin. Ny yei shen, dennee mee dy noddagh oo er soieaghey y skeeal cheddin ayns tradishoon scoaghagh erbee ny Fyssaght, dy veagh oo blieh ersooyl ny h-enmyn Lovecraftagh as cur stiagh fir elley. Cha row monney 'sy skeeal chowree eh myr skeeal ny Mythos, chamoo blass ny aght soilshee. S'treih lhiam gra, er lhiam, dy vel skeealeen mie aynsyn, agh t'ee baiht ayns script fillym kimmeeys jiooldit.
Ta dooal quaagh as anaase erskyn smaght tayrn dooinney cadjin dys buill whaagh as taishbyney agglagh nagh dod eh shassoo noi. Cha noddym sheiltyn Lovecraft hene screeu er y vun-chooish shoh, agh she skeeal braew t'ayn. Haink lesh goaill er hene ynnyd fondagh 'sy Vythos ga dy vel scanshyn bun-chooish as glare eddyr oc. T'eh cur orrym aachooinaghtyn Hypnos ny The Shunned House; shoh skeeal elley er ashlish as er atçhim ry-laue, as er lhiam nagh vel eh neuchooie er chor erbee. Ta'n chooish as ennaghtyn er rere aght Lovecraft, as ta trimmid kynoauin ry-ennaghtyn aynsyn. Ta quaaghid folliaghtagh sheeley ny hrooid, as ta'n screeudeyr gientyn caslys baghtal as so-chredjal jeh'n dooaleyr, ny chorp moal as aigney lane niartal echey, lane dy charismey keoie. Foddym credjal dy verragh eh lheid ny chummaght er yn insheyder.
Ta fer er raad y vaaish as branlaadee. Hoshiaght t'eh fakin scaa Lovecraft, as eisht sleih as cretooryn ass ny skeealyn. Ta'n ghlooaght Mythos-'sy-duillag echey wheesh as y Kicklipaid, bunnys, as er lhiam dy vel y kiart cheddin ec y jees dy ghra dy nee skeeal Lovecraftagh t'ayn. Cha nel folliaght erbee ayn, cha nel feer Vythos ayn, as cha nel blass Lovecraft erbee er strughtoor, aght ny cooish y skeeal. Cha nee skeeal "c'red ta rieughid" t'an noadyr, ga dy vel eh jannoo far-arrish er y lheid - ta fys fondagh ec y dooinney er ny ta taghyrt as cre'n fa. Ta blass skeeal troailt traa er y chied duillag, eisht rere tree ny ghaa chreid mee dy nee homage Blithe Spirits t'ayn, agh t'eh baih ayns dreeid. Cha by haittin lhiam lhaih eh ayns çhaglym erbee, gyn çheet er çhaglym chionnee mee rish shirrey cooid gollrish skeealyn Lovecraft. Ta wheesh scansh eddyr eshyn as bun y teihys skeealyn, cha noddym gra my she skeeal lane loghtagh t'ayn ny jus skeeal gyn anaase.
Ta shenn dooinney cummal ayns shenn thie oast, fo scaa aggle as kyndid bentyn rish taghyrtyn bleeantyn er dy henney. Va ourys orrym hoshiaght, agh er lhiam dy nee skeeal fondagh t'ayn, ga dy vel eh beggan liauyr son y chooid t'aynsyn. Er y laue elley, ta feme er liurid dys carnaneaghey neuhickyrys y lhaihder. Er lhiam dy ren eh taishbyney cooish whaagh craaynagh dy fondagh, as t'eh cummal seose blass neuvaghtal as keoie do nagh vel oo lane shickyr c'red ta rieughid y skeeal derrey'n jerrey. Bare lhiam eie share er bree as obbraghyn ny Nheeghyn, foddee. Trooid as trooid, t'eh feeu lhaih, agh cha nel eh kiart rere y reih aght aym.
Ta drogh-haghyrt raaidjey ayn tra ta dooinney bentyn rish scruin dy chonnspee, agh ta laue liauyr ny Mythos ec bun ny cooish. She eie mie t'ayn as cooilleeney keirdagh; aght ennagh dennee mee dy row eh beggan ro-veein, gyn aunlyn skeeal yindyssagh.
Giare, bwooise da Jee. Ta cummys anaasoil echey, agh t'ayn skeeal hene çhengey lhiam, çhengey lhiat, as ta blass aayannooagh er. Ren Denker ymmyd jeh'n Necronomicon dy chroo giat eddyr-rieughid ennagh. Ta'n skeeal hene jeant ass soilshaghey magh y chooish ayns peeshyn, agh t'eh baghtal dy liooar dy leah ny haghyr. Ta aght screeuee goll veih'n Tauin gys y Voaldyn; foddee oo lhaih eh, agh cha ghow mee monney soylley jeh.
Inhabitants of Wraithwood
Trooid taghyrt, ta scapailagh jeh pryssoon (ny thie aalaanee) çheet er thie baggyrtagh as goll er stroie ec y pooar t'anysyn. Dennee mee dy row eh mysh tree keayrtyn ny shliurey na row feme ayn. She prose focklagh t'ayn by ghoillee dou lhaih eh, as mish my lhaihder prose cramp Lovecraft! Ga dy nee skeeal liauyr t'ayn, cha nel monney bun-skeeal aynsyn; son y chooid smoo ta ny duillagyn soilshaghey yn ard-charracteyr snapperal jeh taghyrt quaagh dys taghyrt quaagh elley, as cur freggyrt neuhickyragh daue. T'eh cur sheer-gheill da ceau druggyr soccar, ny bun-chooish ta sheer gyn anaase erbee.
Ta folliaght y skeeal ry-akin dy leah - cha nee foill t'ayn, shen cadjin dy liooar - agh erreish dhyt toiggal eh cha nel monney ayn agh taghyrt monneydagh er taghyrt monneydagh. T'eh soilshaghey magh jerrey neuhaghnagh yn ard-charracteyr, agh cha nel mian echey dy chur soilshey da cooishyn ny s'diuney, m.s. bree as scansh y skeeal, as myr shen va blass eaghtyragh echey er lhiam. Shen gollrish kuse dy skeeallyn elley 'sy lioar. Cha row anaase aym er aalhaih eh ayns caa dy row firrinys ennagh ry-gheddyn jeh, v'eh ro-chramp as cha row bree dy liooar aynsyn. Eddyr va rouyr focklaghys mooghey y skeeal neuheiltagh, ny rouyr taghyrt 'sy skeeal scoaghagh ennaghtagh.
Ta fer er narraghey dys balley çheerey erreish da goll magh er penshyn, as feddyn magh dy vel taghyrtyn quaagh ry-akin ayns shenn thie. She skeeal neuchramp giare t'ayn, as aght screeuee meein hie shaghym gyn boirey lesh insh y skeeal hene. Cha nel monney mynphoyntyn ny focklaght ayn; t'eh soilshaghey magh y chooish dy fondagh ayns raaghyn beggey as blass coraa yn ard-charracteyr orroo. Cha nee skeeal Gotagh t'ayn, agh skeeal giare by haittin lhiam lhaih eh. Cha nel monney scoagh 'sy chooish, agh shen cadjin dy liooar dy jarroo, as er lhiam dy row eh jeant dy mie. Cha voir agh un meer orrym, ny raa ro-liauyr veagh ny share son rheynn as aainsh: "He was overjoyed at the news, for he loved his pretty little granddaughter who had just graduated from high school and was heading west to a college near Phoenix". Ny skeeal fondagh, cha noddym gra yindyssagh, agh ghoym eh as mish maynrey.
Ta fer sharroo shooyl mygeayrt Rotterdam, geddyn scooyrit as jannoo kimmeeys. Ta'n fockle "Lovecraft" dy mennick ry-akin er feie y skeeal, as cha noddym feddyn bun erbee elley da ve 'sy lioar shoh, son cha nel eh bentyn rish cooishyn, aghtyn ny bree Lovecraft er chor erbee. Er lhiat dy vel corree orrym, foddee, as mish aavooadee y chooish? Ny jean marranys: ta mee lane kiune. Hoshiaght ta sannish quaagh ry-ennaghtyn, bentyn rish ellyn Anthony Gormley, agh cha jig red erbee assjeh, quaagh ny dyn. Myr dooyrt mee er Wraithwood, shegin dou gra nagh vel meshtallys anaasoil ny lane dy vree ass y hene, chamoo ayns lettyraght ny ayns bea. Dy jarroo, son y chooid smoo, ta sleih meshtit dree as/ny boirey ort.
Cha nel mee shickyr er chor erbee cre'n sorçh dy skeeal t'ayn by vie lesh ve, ny t'eh er lesh yn ughtar, as myr shen cha noddym jannoo briwnys fondagh er. Cha nel wheesh aynsyn dy ve ny skeeal folliaghtagh; cha nee skeeal scoaghagh ny skeeal quaagh t'ayn er chor erbee. Ta kimmeeys hrome ayn, agh shen un taghyrt rish jerrey y skeeal, as bree taghyrtagh aynsyn, gyn cur geill da scansh as eiyrtyssyn ny cooish rere aght skeealyn kimmeeys. Myr shen, cha nee skeeal kimmeeys chreeoil t'ayn. Dy jarroo, shen dou gra dy lhome, er lhiam dy vel blass lajer roortys screeuee er ayns ynnyd bree skeeal.
Va fotograafagh ny studeyr ayns colleish Phrovidence; t'eh goll erash son taishbyney ellyn, as fakin scaaghyn tayrnagh jeh shenn reddyn. Ta mee beggan neuhickyr er. By haittin lhiam dy mooar kuse dy reddyn - she bun lane dy vree t'ayn er lhiam, as va blass quaagh mie er. Hoshiaght veehoig mee cre'n bun-chooish v'ayn, as va mee jerkal rish cooish Passing Spirits elley, agh shoh skeeal quaagh hene, gyn ourys. Ny yei shen, er lhiam dy woaillagh eh foddey ny s'troshey er peiagh elley; t'eh cur ram geill da balley Providence hene nagh ghooisht monney bree aynyms nagh row rieau 'sy voayl. Myr dooyrt peiagh elley, she ard-charracteyr lane dooishtid as tastey t'ayn hug orrym aachooinaghtyn er karracteyryn Lovecraft hene, as ad currit da mynscrutaghey as sursmooinaght. Ta bree y skeeal gatt beggan er veggan, as ghow mee toshiaght ennaghtyn dy beagh eh ro-liauyr, derrey haink y dooan stiagh dy çhionn as ghooisht cree y skeeal. Jeeaghyn erash, er lhiam dy nee liurid fondagh t'ayn, agh ta mee goaill yindys, nod eh er jionney cummey y skeeal beggan? Oddin er vaagail y skeeal, bunnys.
Howling in the Dark
S'mie lesh gilley aeg y dorraghys, as t'eh streppey noi cleaynys as annooinidyn. She skeeal gialdynagh t'ayn hug orrym aachooinaghtyn Hypnos, Azathoth, The Haunt of the Dark as The Book. Va bree yeearree aynsyn by haittin lhiam, chammah's blass ennaghtyn nagh vel sleih elley toiggal, as cummaght gys yss yn 'er joarree. Er lhiam dy vel ad ooilley bentyn da bree aegid, tra t'ou gennaght dy vel çharvaal aigney as toiggalys eddyr ny sheelogheyn, agh ta lorg jeh ry-ennaghtyn ayns sleih aegid myrgeddin. T'eh tappee, tayrnagh, so-chredjal as ta aght screeuee so-ghleashagh echey. Dennee mee nagh ren eh ronsaghey ny h-eieyn aynsyn dowin dy liooar, foddee, agh she skeeal fondagh t'ayn.
The Truth about Pickman
Ta sluightagh Americaanagh Vnr. Thurbur goll dys balley beg çheerey Hostyn raad ass haink kynney Phickman, as soilsheydys oaylleeagh ec son taghyrtyn Pickman's Model. Cha noddym jannoo barel baghtal er y skeeal shoh. T'eh screeuit mie dy liooar, as by vie lhiam y soilsheydys. Ec y traa cheddin, dennee mee nagh row y skeeal seyr dy liooar aght ennagh; va blass streeanagh aynsyn. Ta'n baght oaylleeagh mooghey scoagh gowil Pickman's Model, as ga dy vel soilshaghey magh noa ry-heet 'sy skeeal shoh, she folliaght veg t'ayn trooid as trooid, as t'eh cowrit rolaue dy baghtal. Myr shen, cha nel y soilshaghey magh noa wheesh niartal as y scoagh t'eh er neebyrt. Ta bree neuchorrym 'sy chassey-skeeal (plot twist) shen ass lieh yn insheyder, agh t'eh laccal oaldaght ghennal Haki - er lhiam dy nee eshyn y chosoylaght share. Er lhiam dy nee skeeal anaasoil t'ayn, agh cha ghow eh greim orrym. Cha jinnin coyrlaghey eh cour sleih elley, er lhiam, as ta lane vree y skeeal croghey er Pickman's Model - gyn shen, cha nee lane skeeal t'ayn er chor erbee. Ta'n doilleeid cheddin ry-akin ayns Tempting Providence, bunnys, agh er lhiam dy beagh bree ennagh 'sy skeeal shen eer gyn lhaih The Haunter of the Dark.
Erreish da surranse ashlishyn quaaghey, ta gilley beg feddyn magh shenn 'olliaght hayrn e lught-thie as ny naboonyn oc ry-cheilley ayns shenn çhenmynt. She skeeal fondagh t'ayn. T'eh soilshaghey ennaghtyn dy mie, as ta blassyn beggey cur bree deiney ayns ny karracteyryn as gaaniartaghey y skeeal. Er y laue elley, tra ta'n 'olliaght goll er soilshaghey magh, she thooilley-fysseree t'ayn, as ren shen leodaghey bree y skeeal. Va baare y skeeal mie dy liooar, agh cha row blass shickyr er jerrey y skeeal, as myr shen v'eh beggan faase er lhiam. Va'n jerrey gyn soylleeaght ny annym, as veagh eh cooie da lioar laa scoillar ny art oaylleeaght; cha row eh lane chooie da aachooinaghtyn atçhimagh yn 'er hene.
The Correspondence of Cameron Thaddeus Nash
Çhaglym dy screeuynyn ard-jeeaneyder Lovecraft ta gaase keoie dy leah, er nyn gur magh son y chied cheayrt. S'doillee eh skeeal pistylagh y screeu; t'eh ort soilshaghey fys fo choodagh screeuyn so-chredjal, as shen cormid cruinn dy liooar. Cha by vie lhiam eh, dy firrinagh. Shoh yn accan aym, er lhiam: ta bree ennagh 'syn eie bunneydagh, agh ta feme er ram screeuyn dys insh skeeal beg neuchramp, as cha dooar mee monney anaase ayns ny screeuyn hene. Myr shen, she corrillagh moal v'ayn dooys. Er lhiam nagh row monney scansh eddyr ny screeuyn, as va blass spotçhyn preevadjagh ayndaue. Cha lhiah mee rieau screeuyn Lovecraft, ny monney bentyn rish e chaardjyn as coscreeuderyn; hie red ennagh 'sy skeeal shaghym er y fa shen, s'cosoylagh. Er lhiam dy vel ad jerkal rhyt goaill soylley jeh aght as coraa ny screeuyn, as toiggal nish as reesht dy vel eh çheet er skeeal elley, ny feer screeuyn caarjyn Lovecraft.
Violence, Child of Trust
By ghoillee eh skeeal jeh cultys dunveragh y screeu, as shen jeh reayrtyssyn ny cultee, nagh row lane anaase as bree. Myr shen, shegin dou goaill rish ard-cheirdjaght Vichael Cisco ny ughtar. She skeealeen neuslane t'ayn, as kuse dy gheiney gaarlaghey oural deiney (wahll, oural mraane, rere y chliaghtey oc) dy neuarryltagh. T'eh scuirr roish my verr ad jerrey er yn oural, son ta'n skeeal hene bentyn rish eddyr-obbraghey ny karracteyryn. T'eh lheimmey jeh tuarym fer ayn ass dys tuarym fer elley gyn monney bree, as dagh fer jeu nearilagh as faaueagh rhyt, son nagh vel ad arryltagh dy ghra red erbee dy baghtal. Shen tro sheer-voiragh dou tra ta fys as toiggal fondagh ec ny karracteyryn er ny t'ad jannoo, as ta shinyn 'syn aigney oc. Myr shen, cha nel shin feddyn magh monney er y chultys, as shen jummal y reayrtys neuchliaghtagh, er lhiam. Myr sampleyr, cre'n fa dy vel ad nyn gultee, as nagh vel ad er vaagail yn ard do nagh beagh feme oc er cooilleeney oural deiney? Ta kuse dy lhaihderyn elley er ngra (er yn eddyr-voggyl) dy nee skeeal mea as taitnyssagh t'ayn, agh cha noddym goaill rish.
Meer elley: ta kest 'sy skeeal. Cha vaik mee eh hoshiaght, agh trooid taghyrt yeeagh mee er y duillag s'jerree ressht, as huitt my hilley er linney nagh doig mee tra lhaih mee y skeeal, as ren mee yn eab dy aalhaih cooid vooar jeh'n skeeal. As shoh eh: ta'n derrey vraar brah y braar elley mychione yn oural. Ta'n skeeal beggan ny share erreish dou toiggal shen, agh smooinee er shoh: cha dug mee geill erbee da tra lhaih mee eh hoshiaght, er y fa dy vel dagh ooilley red wheesh neuvaghtal. Shen trome-cheeallagh, er lhaim.
Sorçh dy skeeal pulpagh jeh bea erreish da coleaystey mooar kirp fo ghruiaghtys. Ta blass pishagys Lovecraft ry-akin er, ga dy dod oo er chur eh ayns çhaglym neughooghyssagh elley gyn doilleeid. V'eh mie dy liooar; cha ghow eh greim orrym, agh er lhiam dy neeu eh, as t'eh mastey skeealyn share yn lioar shoh. Bare lhiam ennaghtyn share jeh'n ard-charracteyr; dennee mee dy row eh gollrish feniagh FPS aght ennagh. Cha dug taghyrtyn y skeeal cowrey erbee er e ambee, as nagh dennee eh eiyrtys aigney erbee jeh'n sheer-raghlid jeant echeysyn. As mish er smooinaghtyn er y chooish, foddee dy row shen jeant dy arryltyagh, son dy haishbyney dy nee fer gyn monney ennaghtyn t'ayn? Ny dy vel eh aigney sheer-chliaghtit rish as creoit noi?
By vie lhiam bun-eie y skeeal, as v'eh noa dy liooar. Va barel pragmatagh yn ard-charracteyr ny red noa myrgeddin ayns skeeal Lovecraftagh. Va caghlaaghyn beishteig aynsyn myr skeeal Lovecraftagh, dy jarroo - blass y "deayrtal as ooilley" er - agh va'n bun-chooish neughooghyssagh taitnyssagh as jeant dy mie, er lhiam, as quaagh dy liooar.
An Eldritch Matter
Ta fer troggal nhee quaagh er y traid as t'eh caghlaa y cummey t'er dys glout feill; tra ta fer lhee tayrn y nhee assyn 'sy thie lheeys, t'eshyn goll er caghlaa myrgeddin. As shen eh. Ta'n aght screeuee hene castreycair, agh cha dooar mee keeall ghoonee erbee ass y skeeal, myr dy nee cabdil nane ny eer meer roie-haishbynys v'ayn, ny smoo na skeealeen neuchrogheydagh. Va mee jerkal rish jerrey kestagh ny amlagh, foddee, agh cha row y nah 'er ny'n fer elley ry-akin. She straih dy haghyrtyn ta scuirr, as shen eh. Er lhiam dy nee skeeal aitt t'ayn, rere kiarail? Agh cha row mee gearey. Cha nel y prose chamoo yn ard-charracteyr fondagh dy liooar da'n skeeal çheet lesh myr "vignette quaagh anaasoil". T'eh cur imnea orrym gra dy nee skeeal moal t'ayn: by vie dy liooar lhiam ny v'ayn, dy jarroo. Agh shegin dou gra, my ta mee sessal eh my skeealeen, t'eh moal.
Erreish ta marranys taghyrtagh, ta fer goaill toshiaght sursmooinaghtyn er ny beaghyn elley oddagh er ve echey, as ta shen dy chleayney cour baght kianglt as greain agglagh. Hoshiaght chreid mee dy nee aght screeuee maaigagh v'ayn: she aght focklagh as neuellynagh t'ayn, lane chooie da'n insheyder as eh mean-rangagh dys y vine s'jerree, agh cha dod mee agh cur geill da'n aght hene rish tammylt. Erreish dou cliaghtey rish, ghow mee soylljey mooar jeh. She skeeal neuhiyragh t'ayn ta troggal beggan er veggan, as t'eh feeudagh dy liooar. T'eh Sostnagh myrgeddin, as nagh vel eh Sostnagh! Ta covestey jeh nearey as egin aigney er yn insheyder, as v'eh lane so-chredjal dooys myr aght aigney deiney, ga dy row eh quaagh. Tra ta'n momentum er droggal, ta bieauid fondagh echey. Va barel aym er firrinys y skeeal nagh row foddey jeh, agh cha deayshil y chooish 'syn aght yerk mee rish.
Un chaveat: shoh skeeal elley nagh vel lane chooie da cooish y lioar shoh, er lhiam. T'eh ro-chadjin, gyn quaaghys neughooghyssagh ny oaylleeagh, as foddee oo er ny chur stiagh ayns teihys skeealyn quaaghey erbee.
Ta ben hing 'sy thie lheeys, as t'ee bentyn rish y Vythos aght ennagh, agh ta çhiassagh as aght screeu ro-chramp dty lhiettal veih toiggal wheesh ta shen taghyrt. Dy jarroo, cha nel monney traa aym son y skeeal shoh. Ta aght screeuee feer vonneydagh echey do nagh by aashagh eh toiggal ny va taghyrt, as er y fa dy vel y ven cho çhing, she insheyder nagh dod oo treishteil aynjee t'ayn chammah. Shimmey raa t'ayn gollrish "Surcease is a formula etched on the aethers, magically descriptive, nebular, galactic in implication.", as ta cagh "aver" car y traa tra lhisagh ad jus gra reddyn. Va blass ard-haghyrtys breagagh er, as jannoo rouyr eab. Ta skeeal anaasoil fo y chay shen, foddee, bentyn rish ben-chultagh er raad y vaaish, agh dy foshlit, cha nel bree dy liooar aynym dy yummal er kerey eh.
Teiy ny teihys: Copping Squid, Tempting Providence, Desert Dreams, The Broadsword, The Dome
Roie chammah: Tunnels, Howling in the Dark, Usurped, Substitution, Lesser Demons
Cooie da sleih elley, foddee: Pickman's Other Model, The Truth about Pickman, Passing Spirits, Inhabitants of Wraithwood, Denker's Book, Susie
Moal: Engraving, The Correspondence of Cameron Thaddeus Nash, Violence Child of Trust, An Eldritch Matter
Cre 'sy theihll ta shoh?: Rotterdam
Trooid as trooid, erreish dou lhaih y teihys skeealyn shoh, shegin dou gra dy vel scansh mooar eddyr ny ta mish as Joshi cur "skeeal Lovecraftagh" er.
Yiarrins dy vel ny troyn heese ry-akin ayns skeealyn Lovecraft, myr beggan ny mooarane rere y skeeal hene: Ta taghyrtyn ny cooishyn quaaghey ayn, as ard-charracteyryn ta soilshaghey magh y firrinys follit. Ta aght screeuee cramp as Gothagh echey, as ny smoo trimmid er ennaghtyn na bun-chooish, agh t'eh troggal skeeal shickyr veih bun dys jerrey baghtal ny yei shen. Rish jerrey y skeeal, ta'n lhaihder toiggal ny haghyr as cre'n fa, ga nagh vel yn aght baghtal ny keayrtyn, son cha nel Lovecraft faagail folliaghtyn. Son y chooid smoo, t'ad bentyn rish bun-chooishyn cadjin (scansh sheiltynys, neuscansh deiney 'sy dowan, milley anmey as kirpey, cummal seose sollys fardailagh shallidagh noi yn atçhimid nagh dod shin toiggal eh) as ta blass trome-chooishagh orroo.
Ta caghlaaghyn skeeal 'sy liooar shoh, as ta dagh fer bentyn rish cooish ny ghaa ass y rolley heose, agh ta ymmodee jeh cleayney cho foddey ass raad Lovecraft nagh noddym goaill rish ad myr Lovecraftagh. 'Sy varel aym, lhisagh "Lovecraftagh" çheet er skeealyn ta faggys da aght as cooishyn Lovecraft - cha nel skeeal "Wodehouseagh" er y fa ynrickan dy vel Edardee aegey ny geid muick aynsyn. Cha nel mee gra dy nhegin da skeeal ve ny pastiche jeh obbraghyn Lovecraft, agh ta feme er dy lhiantyn rish ayns ymmodee troyn, er lhiam.
Ta aght feer lettyragh as ellynagh ec kuse jeu, lane dy metaphor as aght screeuee daa-cheayllagh ny anvaghtal - foddey jeh aght Lovecraft. Cha nel plottey baghtal oc son y chooid smoo; t'eh er y lhaihder ny taghyrtyn y 'eaysley magh. Ta skeealyn elley nyn skeealyn neughooghyssaght vaghtal dy liooar, agh cha nel bun-chooishyn, genre, ny cummey y neughooghyssaght casley rish ny screeu Lovecraft. Ta jerraghyn kestit ayn, as ren Lovecraft shaghney y lheid jeh yoin dys cur geill smoo da ennaghtyn. Cha nel fer ynrickan jeh ny troyn shoh ny 'oill marrooagh, agh dy cadjin t'ad covestey 'sy skeeal cheddin, lesh faagail skeeal gyn agh aggyrt thanney dy ve rere aght Lovecraft. Choud's foddym toiggal, ta fer ny ghaa 'sy çhaglym shoh er yn oyr ommidjagh dy vel eh çheet er HP Lovecraft, gyn cur geill erbee da troyn bunneydagh y skeeal. S'goan ad foddym cur "Lovecraftagh" orroo gyn cooyl-smooinaght.
Er lhiam, my s'mie lhiat skeealyn Lovecraft, foddee oo feddyn red ennagh s'mie lhiat 'sy teihys skeealyn shoh. Ta teihys lhean ayn as caghlaaghyn aght as blass orroo. My ta clea vaihagh oc, gow oo taitnys jeh'n chooid smoo jeu, foddee. Cha nel anaase ayms er far-skeealaght lettyragh chamoo monney son aghtyn screeuee ellynagh, as myr shen voir kuse dy skeealyn orrym. Er lhiam dy row kuse elley moal.
Feeu geill: rere cliaghtey Lovecraft, cha nel monney mraane ry-akin. She Susie ayns Susie yn ard-charracteyr bwoirrin ynrican, as ish ny saase lettraght ny share na ny karracteyr, dy firrinagh. Er lhiam nagh hig eh lesh fer erbee jeu y Bechdel Test noadyr.
Son baght elley, jeeagh ayns shoh: Baght Opinionator
This is a review of the book Black Wings of Cthulhu, edited by ST Joshi. It claims to be "21 tales of Lovecraftian horror", and I'll give a quick minireview of each one. After the first sentence of each minireview, there may be spoilers, though I've tried to avoid specifics in most cases.
You can find a spoiler-free TL;DR version below.
Pickman's Other Model
Woman who modelled for Pickman appears in weird porn, has strange background, gets killed. It was Lovecraftian, with pretty much all the expected elements, but somehow it didn't work. The scenes were individually okay, and they did link together into a story, but it felt to me empty somehow; there was no bigger story behind it all. Lovecraft had his faults, but he never finished a story without you knowing what had really been going on. In this story, there were just a few weird scenes and a woman murdered by unknown persons for reasons that aren't really explained. Extrapolation provides only a "and that's it?" explanation. Mediocre.
Persistent dreams draw the protagonist to seek out the desert he sees in sleep, where he discovers an awful truth. I quite liked the style of this one, and I think it did a decent job of the "weird dreams" trope. It wasn't quite Lovecraftian somehow, although definitely within spitting distance - possibly because the ending was actually a bit of a surprise, which wasn't Lovecraft's style? - but I quietly enjoyed it. It felt perhaps just a little bit thin and sparse, but that may just be in comparison with Lovecraft's dense prose. Also, I suppose, because I was expecting the ending to be flagged up in HPL style, I didn't expect it to finish so soon and that affected how I approached it.
The first six pages of this ten-part story are a repetitive litany of complaints by someone with the vocabulary of a stereotypical foul-mouthed teenager, convey virtually no information, and can be skipped with minimal impact on the rest. The last four pages offer a short horror vignette. I wouldn't go so far as to call it unLovecraftian, as it draws on the Lovecraftian vocabulary and themes, but I had a sense that if you filed off the names and substituted some others it would fit in any vaguely occult horror setting. There was little in the story itself, and nothing in its style or presentation, that marked it as a Mythos story. Sadly I think this is a reasonable very short story trapped in a rejected crime flick script.
Bizarre blackmail and curiosity draws a man into strange places and terrible, irresistable revelations. While I can't imagine Lovecraft writing on these topics, it was a very solid story that managed to position itself within the Mythos, despite differences of style and subject. Considering stories like Hypnos, or The Shunned House, I felt like this tale of revelation and of horror close at hand was by no means out of place. The themes and mood felt Lovecraftian, and the sense of fate. It's laden with subtle weirdness, and convincingly conveys a sense of an unimposing body with awesome, mad charisma.
A protagonist is dying and begins to hallucinate, first HP Lovecraft's ghost, then all kinds of people and creatures from the stories. With a Mythos-per-page count approaching the Encyclopaedia, and about the same claim to be a Lovecraftian story. There is no mystery, no actual Mythos, nothing Lovecraftian in structure or style. This isn't a "what is reality" story either, despite apparently aiming at it - the protagonist is perfectly aware of what's happening and why. The first page looks to be a time-travel story, the next few give the impression it's going to be a Blithe Spirits homage, and then it bogs down into tedium. It's not a story I'd want to read in any collection, let alone one I picked looking for stuff like Lovecraft. It's so far from the premise of the collection that I can't even decide if it's bad or just uninteresting.
An old man living in an old hotel is haunted by guilt and fear from an experience years ago. After some misgivings, I actually thought this was okay. It felt a little long. However, I thought it did a decent job at presenting something weird and horrific, and keeping things vague and crazy enough to keep you guessing. I suppose I would have liked a little more idea of what the Things actually are and what they do, and as I said I think it was longer than necessary, though a decent length is important to build up the uncertainty. On the whole, worth reading but not quite my style.
An encounter with a wasp swarm causes a car accident, but the long arm of the Mythos turns out to be involved in the case. The idea is fine, the execution decent. For some reason this felt rather bland to me, though. It was okay.
Mercifully brief. A potentially interesting idea, but it's mostly beating around the bush, and felt quite repetitive. Denker used the Necronomicon to power some kind of dimensional portal. The story consists of piecemeal revelations of this fact, in a long-winded style that isn't quite unreadable but little pleasure to read. Didn't really do anything for me.
Inhabitants of Wraithwood
An escapee from prison/rehab stumbles into a sinister house and is consumed by its power. This felt about three times longer than it should have been. The prose was wordy and not very readable (and that's coming from a Lovecraft reader). Despite its length, the story is mostly the narrator stumbling from odd scene to odd scene and reacting unconvincingly, not helped by the relentless focus on drug-taking (a subject perpetually devoid of interest). Once you've spotted the revelation in the first few pages, it's just one portentous event after another. Although it shows the narrator's inevitable fate, as with some others in this book it doesn't seem interested in offering less superficial revelations, and frankly it was too convoluted to reread just to try and work things out. Either there was too much waffle around the creepy story, or there was too much going on in the atmospheric horror novel.
A retiree to a small town discovers there's something strange going on in one of the old buildings. A simple story, written in a simple style that washed over me easily to deliver the story. There's very little details or verbosity, and short phrases with a touch of the protagonist's voice paint events quite distinctly; no gothic atmosphere here, but a quick little tale that gets itself across efficiently and pleasantly. It's admittedly not very horrific, but I thought it was well done. There was only one bit that jarred on me, a single over-long sentence that needed breaking down and rephrasing: "He was overjoyed at the news, for he loved his pretty little granddaughter who had just graduated from high school and was heading west to a college near Phoenix". A perfectly serviceable story, not one of the greats but I'll gladly take it.
A bitter man walks around Rotterdam, gets drunk and is involved in a crime. This story uses the word "Lovecraft" a lot, which appears to be the sole reason it is included here: it has an initially promising hook about Anthony Gormley art, but nothing comes of it. As with Wraithwood's drugs, I must emphasise: getting drunk is not intrinsically interesting or meaningful, any more in literature than in life. Rather, in both cases drunk people are boring and/or annoying. I'm not at all clear what kind of story this thinks it is; there's not enough to it to be mystery, it's definitely not horror or weird tale, and the crime is too sidelined to make a compelling crime story. It feels more like a writing exercise than a story, to be brutally honest.
A photographer returns to his old college in Providence for an exhibition, and finds himself strangely drawn to flickering ghosts of the past. I really dunno about this one. It's got some aspects I very much liked - the premise felt quite strong, and there was something nicely odd about it. I initially mistook what the premise actually was, and thought I was in for another Passing Spirits, but this one is yer'actual weird tale all right. That being said, I think it would speak far more strongly to someone else; there was a strong focus on Providence itself that didn't really resonate with me, having never been. As someone else mentioned, the protagonist has a strong awareness that harks back to many of Lovecraft's own highly analytical characters. This one builds up over time; it began to feel rather long until the hook of the story really bit home and things started unfolding. In retrospect the length seems about right, but I wonder if it could have been tightened up a bit so as not to feel long at the time, because in other circumstances I might have given up on it.
Howling in the Dark
A child with a fondness for the dark struggles with him temptations and frailties. A promising story, which evoked memories of Lovecraft's Hypnos, Azathoth, The Haunter of the Dark, and also The Book. There was a pleasing sense of yearning, of feelings that others can't understand, and of the unmeasured influence of the stranger. Those all seem quite reflective of youth, when there seems a chasm of understanding between generations, but some of that persists into adulthood too. Quick, intriguing, smoothly-written, believable. Perhaps I feel that it didn't explore its ideas quite far enough, but basically solid.
The Truth about Pickman
A descendant of Thurber travels to the English village where Pickman's family originated, with a scientific explanation for the events of Pickman's Model. This is a curious story, and I can't quite decide how I feel about it. It seems well-written and I enjoyed the explanation. At the same time, it seemed a bit too restrained for what it was doing. The scientific premise largely dissipates the horror of Pickman's ghouls, while the other revelation is too small and too well-signposted to provide a strong alternative. The final semi-twist feels unsporting from the character, but doesn't have the savagery of a Saki, which seems the closest model. I think basically I'd say it's interesting but not particularly compelling. Definitely not something I'd push on other people, and it's utterly dependent on Pickman's Model for the impact it does have.
A small boy suffering bad dreams learns of the old secret that drew his family and others together in an old apartment block. This was a decent story, with some evocative atmosphere and little humanising touches that gave it a bit of solidity. However, it was rather infodumpy when the secret did come out, which detracted from its effect. While the climax of the story was pretty good, I also found the conclusion a little weak, lacking the ring of conviction - it was too matter-of-fact, and felt a bit more suited to a scholar's diary or article than a narrative of dreadful memories.
The Correspondence of Cameron Thaddeus Nash
A series of increasingly bizarre fan letters received by Lovecraft, never previously published. Epistolary stories are tricky to do, because you're trying to convey information while wrapping it in the cruft of letters, and trying to get the balance right. I wasn't a huge fan, to be honest. I think my problem with this one is that while there's something to the core concept, it takes a large number of letters to convey a simple story, and unfortunately I didn't find the letters themselves interesting - very samey, maybe in-jokey? Having never got into the Lovecraft Circle stuff or read any of his correspondence, I've probably missed out on something. I suspect the idea is to enjoy the style and voice, maybe catch a reference here and there. Didn't do much for me.
Violence, Child of Trust
It would be difficult to make a story told from the perspective of members of an cult that practice human sacrifice uninteresting. As such, I am compelled to admit Michael Cisco's mastery of his craft. In truth, this barely qualifies as a story, more a vignette - it's some members of the cult family reluctantly preparing for a sacrifice, and ends before they complete it. It switches between uninspiring viewpoints, always coyly uninformative and allusory; this is a rather annoying trait when viewpoint characters know perfectly well what they're doing. As such we learn very little about the cult (say, why are they cultists?) which largely wastes the perspective. Poor. Some other readers have found it rich and rewarding, but I really can't agree.
Addendum: there is a twist in the tale, which I spotted only through accidentally looking at the last page again, spotting a line that had confused me the first time, and rereading a few pages to look for the solution. One brother betrays the other over the sacrifice arrangements. This makes the story a little more satisfying, but I find it telling that I didn't notice this at all on the first reading, due to the opaqueness of every damn thing. It doesn't help with the other problems.
A sort of postapocalyptic pulp zombie plague story with Lovecraftian touches, although they could arguably be other occult traditions instead. This was okay; it didn't wow me, but I found it much more worthwhile than quite a few others in the collection. I'd have liked more sense of the protagonist, who feels oddly reminiscent of a blank-slate FPS protagonist, essentially untouched by the events and their own colossal violence. On reflection, it's actually possible this is intended to convey him being emotionally blunted, or hardened to violence. The core concept is quite interesting and novel, and the character's pragmatic attitude was an interesting take. It was a little kitchen-sink with monsters, but the core supernatural element was pleasing.
An Eldritch Matter
A man picks up an odd item on the street and is horribly mutated; when a doctor retrieves the item in hospital, he is also mutated. That really is all there is to it. The actual writing isn't bad, but there's no real sense of closure to the narrative, leaving it feeling like a chapter one or even a prereview extract, rather than a standalone tale. I was expecting maybe a twist ending or ironic finish, but got neither, just a series of events that ends. It's presumably supposed to be funny? Didn't work. There's not enough in either the prose or the character to carry this off as a weird vignette. I feel bad calling this a bad story, since I enjoyed the bits that were there, but viewed as a short story, it is bad.
A chance mistake leaves a man pondering about other lives he might have had, and leads him towards obsession and a nasty shock. Initially I found the writing rather clunky; it’s in a wordy but inelegant style that fits the utterly middle-class narrator well, but it took me a while to stop noticing it. Once I got into the story, though, I enjoyed this slow-build, low-key story, and its English setting. The protagonist’s mixture of embarrassment and compulsion was strangely believable, and once the momentum started building, the pacing was solid. I had my suspicions about the truth, which were pretty accurate, but things didn’t pan out quite how I expected. What I would say, though, is that this is another story that I don’t feel fits the theme particularly closely. It’s a little too mundane, and could really have fitted into any supernatural or light horror collection.
Woman in hospital is ill, interacts with Mythos to a degree obscured by fever and writing style. Honestly, I have little time for this story. It's written in a really portentous style that makes it difficult to tell what's going on, and the protagonist is ill so she's a deeply unreliable narrator anyway. Sentences like "Surcease is a formula etched on the aethers, magically descriptive, nebular, galactic in implication." abound, and people keep averring things. It gave me a feeling of artificial melodrama. I think it's decent story underneath that, revolving around a dying cultist, but I frankly cannot be bothered teasing it out.
My highlights: Copping Squid, Tempting Providence, Desert Dreams, The Broadsword, The Dome
Also ran: Tunnels, Howling in the Dark, Usurped, Substitution, Lesser Demons
Not my thing: Pickman's Other Model, The Truth about Pickman, Passing Spirits, Inhabitants of Wraithwood, Denker's Book, Susie
Poor: Engraving, The Correspondence of Cameron Thaddeus Nash, Violence Child of Trust, An Eldritch Matter
No seriously, what?: Rotterdam
I think the main conclusion I can draw from this anthology is that Joshi and I have very different understandings of the term "Lovecraftian story".
Broadly speaking, I feel that Lovecraft's stories include the following traits, to a varying degree: weird events or situations, whose hidden truths are revealed by the protagonists; dense, gothic writing that emphasises atmosphere over plot, but still follows a definite story progression to a distinct end; by the end of the story, the reader understands what has been going on. They also touch on some themes (the importance of imagination, the insignificance of humanity before the universe, corruption, maintaining a futile candlelight against the dreadfulness beyond our ken) and strike a fairly serious mood.
This book offers a wide variety of stories, all of which touch on some of these issues, but many of which deviate so strongly that I can't honestly consider them Lovecraftian. To my mind, "Lovecraftian" writing should be really quite close to that of Lovecraft, in the same way that a story isn't Wodehousian simply by featuring young Edwardians or pig-stealing. I don't mean they need to be a pastiche, but there need to be many points of similarity.
Several of the stories are very literary and artsy in style, full of metaphor and ambiguous writing, but a big departure from Lovecraft. These also tend not to feature very clear plots, with the reader left to try and puzzle out what might have been going on. A couple are fairly lucid supernatural stories, but not very close to Lovecraft either in themes, genre or the nature of the supernatural within them. There are several twist endings, which Lovecraft studiously avoided to concentrate on atmosphere. The chief problem is that these departures often combine, leaving you with stories that have only a tenuous claim to Lovecraftianism. A couple seem to have been included on the bizarre strength of mentioning HP Lovecraft, rather than any intrinsic property of the stories. There were only a handful that I feel comfortable categorising as Lovecraftian.
The range of stories in this book will mean that most people who want something Lovecraftian can probably find a few that suit their taste. If you have a very broad palate, you may enjoy most of them. Personally, I have no time for literary fiction and little for very artsy writing, and found several stories annoying, while a couple of others I simply thought were bad.
Also worth noting: as sadly traditional for Lovecraft, women are pretty few and far between. There's one female protagonist (Susie, although she's less a protagonist and more a literary device, to be honest) and I don't think any of them would pass the Bechdel test.
For an alternative take, see here: Opinionator's review